Company
by daisyham8
Summary: Remus finds himself with unwelcome company one night in a pub. Snape. From this blossoms something neither man could have ever expected. DH Compliant.
1. Chapter 1

He was unlovable. It was a fact; he was a Dark creature, and Dark creatures were worthless and generally contemptible. The fact that he was piss-drunk probably didn't do much to refute this stereotype, either.

As if it mattered.

Nighttime in Hogsmeade was quiet, and he sat in the pub alone, drinking away all that was left of his senses—not that it bothered him, much. These days he rather preferred the numbness. He heard the low scraping of a door opening behind him and didn't care to turn, figuring it was probably a patron coming in for a drink before heading home.

"Lupin," he heard someone say, acknowledging him. It was a voice slightly familiar through the haze of drink, sending a ripple of irritation down his back. He didn't turn, opting to take a shot of whiskey instead. A figure saddled down at the stool next to him, barely discernible in the dim lighting. "Gin," the figure murmured to the barman.

"What are you doing here?" said Lupin harshly, the alcohol turning him fierce. There was a still moment, followed by a deep sigh.

"Getting absolutely pissed. It is a Saturday, after all."

Lupin smirked. "So because you've no classes tomorrow, you get smashed?"

The man gulped his drink. "Exactly, Lupin. Exactly."

"I rather _liked_ teaching, you know," Lupin said quietly, hissing his bitterness through clenched teeth. The other man snorted.

"I apologize, Lupin." The voice was neutral.

"Is that the drink talking, then?"

"Obviously." To the barman; "Another."

"Then why did you have me fired in the first place, Snape?" The man shifted.

"I don't really remember. Revenge is a probable explanation."

"I didn't fucking do anything to you!" said Lupin, turning to look at the man, pointing his finger. If there had been others there, they would have made quite a scene-- however, their only company was the nondescript barman and a couple of men sitting in the corner. Snape didn't look at Lupin, merely fingered his glass of drink, turning it and staring into the deep amber liquid. The man seemed miles away, and it infuriated Lupin. "You sought revenge for no reason, Snape." And to the barman; "Another whiskey, man. Cheers."

Snape gulped the entire glass, his Adam's apple bobbing. He plunked the glass down and licked his lips, eyes closed. A silence passed, the only sounds being the gentle hum of other patrons, the clinking of glasses, and Lupin's angry breathing. Then Snape opened his eyes and scowled at no one in particular. "I had to enact revenge against someone besides Potter." He was beginning to slur, though not as much as Lupin.

"For what?"

"I needed it, Lupin. You don't know the hell-- "

"I don't know hell? Fuck you, Snape."

Lupin received a glare.

"As Iwas saying, you have no idea what hell I went through as an adolescent. I know you went through your own hell, but at least people _liked_ you." There was silence, and Lupin shifted angrily forwards, facing the bar again. Snape hadn't looked at him at all, and took another gulp of his drink.

They sat in the quiet unease of their own thoughts, Lupin feeling stubborn. Then Snape slurred, "So how is dear old Nymphadora?"

"Shut up, Severus," Lupin warned.

"Is she doing well, then? She pines after you, you know. Have you seen her Patronus?"

"Did I not just tell you to shut the fuck up?"

"What is it, then?" Snape continued, a sneer stretched across his angular features. "Are you not interested in her?" Lupin spun and grabbed Snape by the collar, threatening to choke him. Snape looked amused.

"You're a bloody bastard," he hissed, bringing his face close to the other man's. Then he let go, shoving Snape away, and attempted to leave. He slid off of the barstool in anger, but he stumbled and nearly fell. A hand had grabbed his shoulder, steadying him. Lupin knew it was Snape's, but he shrugged it off and walked dizzily out of the pub.

……………………….

The next time they met was the next week, at the same pub. It was again a Saturday night, and Snape was slumped at the bar, collecting the condensation off of his glass with a thin white finger.

"Why are you here, Snape?" asked Remus as he took up a stool next to the thin man.

"What, have I interrupted your private time?" Snape retorted without turning, a small slur in his words. Lupin could imagine the sneer that was on his face, but refused to look.

"Wanted to see me again?" Lupin taunted. He ordered a shot of whiskey.

"Amusing, Lupin. No, I'm here for the same reason I was last week," he muttered, downing the last of his drink. He motioned to the barman for another.

"What? Pissing me off?" Lupin growled, taking a swig.

"Don't be so narcissistic," Snape said. The two men sat at alone the bar; the silence between them filled with sips of alcohol.

Lupin planned on ignoring him for the rest of the night, but curiosity got the better of him. Or perhaps it was just the drink. "Does Tonks really love me?" he asked quietly.

"I believe so. Do you love her?" asked Snape, the bitterness usually in his voice gone.

"No," muttered Lupin. He downed the rest of his drink. God, he didn't want to have to deal with this.

"Why not?" asked Snape, his black eyes turned intently towards Lupin for the first time that night.

"Because I just don't. She's sweet, and funny, but… she's extremely naïve. She can't love someone like me. Honestly, I don't think _anyone_ could love someone like me. Could truly love, I mean. Why does it even matter? Jesus, why I am I even telling you this?" he muttered, scratching his chin. Lupin turned and looked at Snape imploringly.

"Your friends loved you. Your parents loved you. And you're telling me this because there's no one else to tell," replied Snape, looking guarded. "No one left to tell."

"Yes, well, they're all dead, aren't they? And I have plenty of people to talk to," muttered Lupin hastily, taking another shot of whiskey.

"Like who?" asked Snape, his eyebrow raised. "Kingsley? Dumbledore? Bloody Potter? No, Lupin. If you had anyone to talk to, you wouldn't be in a bar on a Saturday night, getting drunk. With me of all people."

"I didn't plan on you being here…" mumbled Lupin into his glass as he took a swallow.

"Well I am, and you're talking. What would you do if she professed her love for you?"

Lupin sat quietly for a moment. "Refuse her, probably."

Snape looked at Lupin as his studying him.

"You slept with her, didn't you?"

Lupin looked aghast. "Fuck! No, Snape, I did not!" he said, perhaps a little too quickly. Snape smirked.

"You did." His grin was interrupted by a blow to his cheek, a red mark forming in she shadow of Lupin's fist. "What the fuck… Lupin!" But he was already gone.

………………….

On Wednesday night it was Lupin's turn to patrol the school. The moonlight crept in through the high windows on the sixth floor, illuminating the opposite walls with a creamy, nearly ethereal light. Lupin was under the Disillusionment charm as to avoid being seen. He listened to the muffled sounds of his feet hitting the carpet and stopped for a second; he had heard footsteps coming from somewhere in front of him. A thin, dark figure turned the corner, coming towards the hidden man. The figure's black hair framed his face, and he looked rather drawn. His pale skin glowed eerily in the moonlight and it made him look more like a specter than a man. It was Snape, Lupin realized, and he had stopped a few feet off from where Lupin was hidden. The man was breathing heavily, and he leaned against the wall, rolling his sleeve up. There; the Dark Mark. It looked red and extremely painful even in the moonlight, like raw flesh. Snape was rubbing it fervently, scratching at it with trembling fingers, his breathing becoming erratic.

"Stupid…" he muttered, placing his forearm against his forehead, trying to ease the discomfort that the scar was giving him. It seemed to work a little, for Snape's face relaxed. He used his other hand to take a cigarette out his pocket, and placed it in his mouth. He didn't have light, but the cigarette merely _being_ there seemed to relax his nerves a bit. Shadows played across his face, sharpening his appearance; Lupin quietly let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Who's there?" asked Snape, eyes darting towards Lupin's direction, the tension immediately returning to his features.

"It's Remus," said Lupin, taking the charm off of himself. Snape relaxed, slumping down the wall onto the floor.

"Good," he mumbled. "Thought you were a student. Do you have a light?"

Lupin threw him a matchbook that had been in his pocket as he approached him. "Are you allowed to smoke inside of the school?"

"I don't particularly care," said Snape, lighting his cigarette. "Dumbledore is substantially indebted to me, and I take advantage of that fact as frequently as possible." He took a puff and closed his eyes. He let his arms fall to his sides and he sat on the floor, his back against the wall. Lupin bent and sat next to him, wincing at the slight stiffness in his joints. Lycanthropes never aged well.

"Does it hurt, then?" asked Lupin, motioning to the still-exposed Mark. Snape lifted it and looked at it. He sneered, the cigarette staying put between his teeth. Lupin cringed as he saw a bruise on the man's cheek from where he had been punched a few days before.

"At first it feels like insects crawling underneath the skin. Then the burning sensation will begin to flare up," Snape murmured, almost reverently. "Then we are summoned."

"Sorry," muttered Lupin vaguely; Snape nodded, exhaling smoke into the corridor. They sat for a while and looked out the window at the grounds, the stars, the sky.

"Full moon in three days."

"Has the Wolfsbane been working properly?"

"Yes, thank you."

Snape grunted his approval, and took another drag on his cigarette. He then began to roll his sleeve back down, and got up. He held his hand out for Lupin.

"Aren't you supposed to be patrolling the school for suspicious characters?" Snape asked, eyebrow raised.

"Of course," said Lupin, allowing the man to help him up. "And you?"

"I'm going to see Dumbledore," Snape muttered, putting out his cigarette on the stone wall, behavior that seemed absurdly un-Snape-like. He then turned and left, leaving Lupin without a goodbye. Lupin smiled a little to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

They had developed an odd sort of routine over the next few weeks, ongoing but unspoken. On Saturdays, they would get drunk, and one of them would usually storm off angrily. When Lupin was set to patrol the school, he would find Snape and they would talk. Certain topics were absolutely off-limits, like what had happened that night, that _awful_ night in the Shrieking Shack, during their school days; all discussion of Black and Lily Evans was also off-limits. And the reason _why_ Snape was so inclined to get drunk at every opportunity was something that neither man ever wanted to discuss. Indeed, they had talked of Nymphadora, along with the other members of the Order, what school was like and had been like, the students, Greyback, and other things that concerned the both of them but was trivial enough not to matter.

……………….

Tonight was Saturday, and they were in Snape's private study, drinking Old Ogden's in despicable amounts. A warm fire penetrated the gloom of the dungeon room, and it was comfortable. The room was simple, with many bookshelves, a small table, and two armchairs. Lupin suspected that there was usually only one, but didn't comment. Snape was still in his uncomfortable-looking teaching robes, but was slumped in his chair. Lupin felt extremely shabby, but was too drunk to care.

"Molly Weasley wants me and Tonks together," muttered Lupin, sipping.

Snape snorted. "Molly Weasley is fanatical."

"I know. She's sweet, but… she frightens me."

"Tonks or Molly?"

"Both of them," Lupin said, laughing. Snape smiled, but hid it behind his glass. The sat in a comfortable silence, gazing into the fire. They were like this for a few minutes, and Lupin was becoming a bit sleepy, bathed in warmth and feeling the gentle buzz of alcohol.

"Lupin?" asked Snape quietly.

"Yes, Severus?"

There was a moment of silence, Lupin with an expectant expression on his face.

"How do you know you're not in love with Nymphadora?" Lupin was a bit taken aback, but answered.

"I just do."

"Have you been in love before?"

Lupin hesitated. "I don't… I don't really know. I don't think so."

Now it was Snape's turn to hesitate. "Who was it?"

"It was no one."

"Was it Lily?" Snape asked softly. He sounded sleepy. Lupin gave a small smile.

"No, it was never Lily. It was someone else entirely." They sat looking at the fire. For how long, he didn't know.

Lupin began to drift off, and then woke himself up with a start. Perhaps he had been asleep, for the fire was now much smaller and his muscles ached a bit. The alcohol was beginning to wear off a bit, and he knew that he would have a headache come morning. He got up and stretched, and looked over at Severus, who was sleeping soundly. He looked strangely peaceful, and a small flush was gathered high in his cheeks. His mouth was slightly opened, and his lips moved as if he were talking in his dreams. Lupin was shaken-- he had never seen Snape look so relaxed-- gentle, even. Dismissing these feelings, he grabbed a throw blanket from off the chair and laid it over the slumbering man. Then for some reason, though he didn't know why, he pressed his lips to the man's forehead. Snape's face twitched a little, and he shifted, but he didn't wake. Lupin left.

…………………

It was November. Lupin was spying on Fenrir Greyback's pack and Snape was deep in the throes of teaching. He recounted the tale of that insolent Ronald Weasley's comment about the Inferi, making Lupin laugh.

"He's not an especially bright boy, but he has his moments," he chuckled as they drank ale over a game of chess. Lupin had taken off for a few days after the full moon, and it was a Saturday. They hadn't seen each other for a few weeks, and had both grown used to each other's company. ("Did you miss me?" "Don't flatter yourself, Lupin.")

"Checkmate," said Snape for the third time. Lupin was stunned, and stared at the board.

"Already? It's barely been ten minutes!"

They rarely fought anymore. They bickered, but voices weren't raised. The delicate off-limit topics still hung between them like glass baubles and as they became closer, the closer they came to these topics, the possibility of touching upon them looming disconcertingly close. It was strange, that the more comfortable they became with each other the more uneasy they both felt. But they continued to meet, regardless. They needed a break from the world, and had it within each other's company. Chess, conversation, arguing about menial things, and drinking.

Snape lit a cigarette.

"Do you really have to smoke those things?" Lupin asked, setting up the board again.

"Yes. I do."

"How long have you been smoking?"

Snape thought. "Since I was about fifteen."

"When did you start drinking?"

"I'm not a bloody alcoholic, Lupin," Snape said, scowling, but then sighed. "From summer after sixth year until I became a spy for Dumbledore. Up until this summer, really, I haven't gotten drunk since I was twenty-two."

"Why this summer?" asked Lupin, pausing his placement of the pawn onto a black square.

Snape took another drag and blew the smoke into Lupin's face, making him cough. "Spy business. I doubt you would be able to understand."

"I'm a spy too, Severus." Snape's face flickered with some strange emotion.

"I can't tell you, Lupin. I'm sure…" he trailed off, his face unreadable. He took another quick drag, and turned his head away, distracted by his own thoughts.

"What?" asked Lupin, anger now beginning to tinge his voice (alcohol really did make him unreasonable…).

Snape hesitated, not looking at Lupin, but stared at his cigarette. "I'm sure you'll find out eventually. It's enough to make me want to drink again, you can be certain about that."

There it was. The topic. One of the few off-limit ones. It had been explained, Lupin realized. Or at least as much as it would be, he was sure. It made him a bit sad, though he didn't know why. They sat in near silence for the rest of the night, both deep in thought.

…………………….

Then came Boxing Day, with Remus angrily patrolling the halls of the school, though he knew it wasn't at all necessary. He wouldn't admit it to himself, but he wanted to talk to Snape. After a few hours going about the castle in a bit of a haze, he decided to give up the notion that Snape would show up around a corner at any second. Lupin stormed to the dungeons, and to Snape's office. He knocked on the door, and a voice told him to enter. He rushed in, ignoring Snape's quickly hidden look of surprise, and sat in the chair across from him, balling his fists on top of the man's desk.

"I bloody hate Christmas. Do you have liquor? Whiskey? Anything?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "What happened, Lupin?"

Remus ran a hand through his hair. "Christmas at the Weasleys."

Snape chuckled darkly. "What, you didn't receive any gifts? I'm afraid they might not have been able to afford presents for a… what, _ninth_ child?"

"They only have seven," said Lupin, rubbing his stubbly jaw.

"Potter makes eight," said Snape, eyebrow still raised, writing a large _P_ on an essay.

Lupin clenched his jaw. "I'm ignoring you. Bill's fiancee was there, irritating us all, and of course Molly had to invite Nymphadora. Her hair's brown now, did you know?"

"Subtlety. Though you have definite gray in your own hair now, Lupin," Snape said lazily, pulling a bottle of Ogden's Old from one of his desk drawers as he set aside the papers.

"Probably just trying to _make me feel better about myself_," said Lupin, disgusted, taking the glass full of amber liquid that Snape handed to him.

"What happened?"

"She came over. She was miserable. I was miserable. Molly made things more miserable. Arthur tried to salvage things, but they ended up more miserable then before. Tonks cried."

"When you slept together?" Snape asked innocently. Lupin snorted his whiskey, getting it all over his moth-eaten jumper.

"Severus!" he cried angrily. "How fucking dare… well… yes, when she threw herself at me. I was fucking _drunk_, it wasn't like… I don't know. It's all a bit of blur. I don't love her," he added loudly.

"But she's good in bed," said Snape, eyebrow raised, looking genuinely interested.

"Not even. She told me afterwards it was only her third bloody time," scowled Lupin.

Snape smirked. "That's why she claims to be in love with you, Lupin. Who was her first?"

"Charlie Weasley," he mumbled, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig. Snape's face contorted in disgust and amusement, his hair swinging into his face. Lupin looked around the room, desperately searching for something to change the subject. He spotted a few packages on a chair in the corner of the room.

"What're those?" he asked loudly.

Snape took a sip of his alcohol, and then waved his hand as if brushing the subject away. "Gifts, I suppose."

"From who?" asked Lupin.

"Minerva. Perhaps Pomona. There's one from Albus, I think, and one from Lucius and Narcissa. I haven't opened any of them, and don't plan on it," he added darkly, pouring himself more drink.

"Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy?"

"Well, it's likely that it was just Narcissa, considering Lucius is in Azkaban. I think other Death Eaters may have sent me things but… Albus intercepted them."

"Why not the Malfoys?"

Snape ran a finger along his thin bottom lip. "Lucius and I have always gotten on rather well, I suppose, or at least Lucius thinks we have. And Narcissa has a certain… fixation with me. Not like that, Lupin, no. And they are grateful that I am so good to Draco. Dumbledore trusts that they wouldn't send anything that would jeopardize my _position_. "

"Why?"

"Why what?" Snape retorted indignantly.

"Why are you good to Draco?" Snape's face was devoid of emotion, his black eyes, usually glittering slightly when Lupin was near, were now cold and dead-looking.

"Mind your fucking business, Lupin." He grabbed the bottle himself and took a swig.

……………….

It was Snape's birthday, and Remus was in a damn good mood. He was on Hogwarts patrol, so he would get to talk to Severus; he had even bought him a gift. He had also successfully avoided any contact with Tonks since Christmas, which made him quite happy indeed. The only bad part was the fact that the full moon was in less than a week, and Remus had always felt rather feral during the week before the full moon, always anxious to _do_ something. He strolled down to the dungeons, knocking on the door to Snape's private quarters. When there was no reply from the inside, Remus whispered the password and quietly opened the door. There was a little fire going, the light inside of the study dim. Remus crept inside quietly, parcel in hand, shutting the door behind him. There was a chair in front of the fire, and in it a figure sat, slumped. It was Severus. His appearance surprised Remus, leaving him wide-eyed as he approached. An empty bottle of vodka sat on the small table next to him. He was dressed casually; apparently underneath the proper looking robes he usually wore there was a simple white oxford shirt. The top two buttons were undone, revealing a small peek of an undershirt. He wasn't wearing a belt, and his black pants looked rather wrinkled. His sleeves were rolled up and a surprisingly docile-looking Dark Mark was barely visible on the man's arm. And the most surprising thing; Severus was dead asleep. He looked just as peaceful as he had that night all those months ago, save for a small crease between his eyebrows; he was frowning. His mouth moved slightly, a flush was on his cheeks, and his hair, instead of hanging in his face as it was wont to do, was pushed back behind his ears. He looked nearly delicate, and some foreign emotion grabbed Remus' heart, almost choked it with its tight grip.

Remus was overcome, and could feel the flush forming in his own cheeks. He leaned forward and gently kissed the man's forehead, not knowing what he was doing or even why, save for the fact that it simply felt right. Severus twitched again, a piece of hair falling in front of his face, and his frown increasing. He did not wake. Remus, feeling emboldened, kissed the man's pale cheek. Severus groaned, and his eyes opened slightly without seeing.

"Lily?" he croaked.

"No, Severus, it's Remus," he whispered softly. Snape's eyes flew open, and he looked at Remus without seeing him. A terrible mixture of outrage, fear, and shame flitted through his face. The man pushed Remus blindly away, got up out of his chair and stormed out of the room, not looking back. Remus could feel the hand-shaped fury on his chest from where Snape had pushed him. His heart sank a little, and he placed the parcel (which contained a bottle of tequila, socks, and a very nice quill) onto the small table next to the empty vodka bottle. He made his way out.

……………..

As Severus crept back in, ashamed and embarrassed, he read the note on the parcel.

_To Severus: Happy Birthday. –Remus._

It was the first birthday gift he'd received in quite a few years, and the first thing he did was write a thank-you note with the quill, pour tequila on it, and burn it.


	3. Chapter 3

The next full moon was rather more agonizing then previous ones had been. The transformation was nearly as painful as it was when it was without the damn potion. Remus lay in the tall grass—he had been with Greyback's pack. He was unclothed, and was cold, his joints achy as hell. He got up and made his way back to the frozen compound; it was the middle of January. He wished he were somewhere else, like Hogwarts. It would undoubtedly be warm at this time of year, with blazing fires, warm tea, and perhaps an actual meal besides fucking _raw meat_. But no, here in the little 'werewolf village', everything was run down and lacking in even the most basic comforts one could want. Not even fucking _plumbing_. He was a bit embarrassed at being naked; he must have ripped his clothes off in his transformation, which was a shame, since he didn't have very much. All of a sudden he heard someone calling his name. He jerked his head towards the noise and saw a mass of black hurtle towards him. He staggered backwards as it nearly tackled him; hands were gripping his shoulders.

"Lupin, are you all right? I made your potion poorly, I'm so-- I don't know why, I added too much of the ermine liver, I think… I don't…" Snape said rapidly and rather anxiously, then went on to list all of the things he had done poorly, making the potion less effective. He looked distraught, and Lupin wondered if perhaps it was because Snape had done it on purpose and felt guilty. But he listened dutifully, nodding and shivering, covering his more personal assets with pink fingers. Snape paused and was breathing heavily, holding a hand to his forehead. Then, without explanation or preamble, he began to remove his large black cloak. Fully unfastened, and not looking at Lupin's face, he wrapped the cloak around the shivering man's shoulders. When he was fully covered, Snape went on as if nothing happened, then asked when the next night Lupin had duty might be, for he had learned of a new Muggle game called 'poker', and it was decidedly _not_ complete rubbish. Lupin stared at him stupidly.

"You gave me your cloak," he said, pulling it around himself.

"Yes, well, you were naked," muttered Snape, kicking the ground.

"Why did you gave me your cloak?" asked Lupin, mouth still hanging open.

"Because you were bloody naked, Lupin," snarled Snape, glaring at the other man. "You were making me cold. Now if you'll excuse me, I have classes." He turned and Disapparated. Before he left, Remus detected a small blush in the man's cheek. Perhaps it was the cold, but a small part of Remus preferred to think it was for other reasons.

……………

"Severus, you're my only friend," said Remus exasperatedly one day in February as he stomped into the man's study for their Saturday-night-alcohol binge. The other man merely lifted an eyebrow ironically. "Bloody Order. Bloody fucking Tonks. I'm sick of it."

"Tell her to sod off," muttered Snape, pouring himself some bourbon.

Remus looked disgruntled. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"It would be—it would be heartless. She loves me, I'm not telling her to sod off. It's cruel," Remus explained, taking off his traveling cloak. Snape was looking away, and was very still.

"So I'm your only friend now?" he asked quietly.

"Indeed. Pour us some drink," said Remus, brushing Snape's strange manner off. Frustratingly, it continued for the rest of the night. Snape was very quiet, as if deep in thought, and didn't drink much. So Remus just drank himself until he couldn't stand, and Snape let him sleep on a chair he had transfigured into a small bed. Remus had a terrible hangover the next morning and Snape was already gone.

………………

Things continued normally for a little while. The two men grew closer to each other, and began to let loose in each other's company. Snape smiled and laughed, goodness did he _laugh_, and Remus allowed himself to reveal more secrets about himself, more than he would ever reveal to anyone. And he knew it was because Snape could keep a secret, and would keep a secret for someone he trusted.

"You did _what_ with Black?" asked Snape, laughing in disbelief, one evening in late March.

"Yes, I know. Shut up. It doesn't make me a ponce…"

Snape laughed again. "Lupin, don't delude yourself. That's why you don't love Nymphadora!"

Lupin growled. "I don't love Tonks because Tonks is annoying."

A smile was spread across Snape's face. "Right."

"Shut up, Snape. Now you won't want to be my bloody _drinking buddy_. It's why I didn't want to bloody tell you. Who'd want to be friends with a man who… you know…"

"Loves other men?" asked Snape, eyebrow raised.

"I didn't fucking _love_ him. He was too rash. And too mad," said Remus, hiding his face.

"But you fucked him," said Snape. Lupin nodded solemnly, embarrassed. "Jesus, Lupin, you think I care? You remember the Slytherin lads in our year, correct? Biggest bunch of poofs I've ever met. Evil fucks, yes, but poofs all the same."

"I'm not a fucking poof, Severus. I quite enjoy female company, too," said Lupin angrily. Snape merely smirked and poured Remus a drink. "I'm still fucking Tonks."

Snape snorted. "You weak-hearted bastard. Stop leading her on. Or is she getting better?"

"No…" muttered Remus, taking a small sip of his drink. "I don't know why I even…"

"It's because you desire approval," said Snape. "It's because you want to make everyone happy, you want all to _like_ you. You are afraid of rejection. You feel she needs you, so you are polite and give yourself to her--" Snape was interrupted by Remus' fist slamming into his jaw. He swore, and Remus stood panting, staring at his fist, trembling.

"I thought we were _past_ this," said Snape with cold sarcasm, spitting angry blood onto his floor.

"I'm sorry," said Remus immediately, feeling terrible.

"What the hell am I going to do? I'll have a fucking bruise… fuck it, I need a drink… Lupin, get out of my goddamned quarters…" he muttered, finishing off the last of the vodka.

"I'm sorry," whispered Remus again, quickly, his voice shaky. Why had he _done_ that?

"Well you're not bloody forgiven. Leave," Snape hissed through clenched teeth. He was angry, yes, but Remus knew (or at least hoped) the man would grudgingly invite him back inside in an hour or two. Remus apologized again, even bowed, then left the room. For lack of anything better to do, he decided to pay a visit to Minerva, who was unfortunately asleep. He soon discovered that it was 3 o'clock in the morning and everyone else in the whole _bloody_ castle was peacefully asleep as well. So he went out onto the grounds for a bit, soaking in the waning moon. He sat by the lake and waited for a while, watching the stars reflected in the lake. He was brought back to those nights he spent as a child—a child—running about these grounds with his friends. [Two dead. The other two… one a Death Eater and the other a manipulative, horrible fucking _bastard_ of a werewolf. After some amount of time, he ventured back into the castle, slightly sobered, and to the dungeons. It had only been about an hour, but Remus really didn't care much. He let himself into the dim little room, and found a familiar scene. There was Severus again, sleeping in his chair. Remus approached the slumped figure, pressing a finger to a white hand hanging off the arm of the chair. It was warm.

Remus rounded to the front of the chair. Snape was dozing, his chest rising and falling slightly. His eyelashes fluttered a little, and his lips were mouthing the language of dreams. That coiling feeling reappeared in Remus' chest, and he reached forward to brush a piece of hair out of the man's eyes. He knelt in front of the chair, and stroked the sleeping man's cheek with his palm. He was going to do it again, he couldn't help it. The tide of emotion was too great. It gripped him, strangled him. Something about this man sleeping…

He pressed a soft kiss to the man's pale, slightly sunken cheek (he had been looking more ill over the past few weeks). Severus's eyes fluttered open softly. Remus' heart sunk a little. He was dreading what Severus would say, what Severus would do...

"Remus?" whispered Severus.

Remus paused, taken aback. Then he whispered back, "Yes."

Snape smiled, grabbing the back of Remus' neck with a warm, gentle hand. "Remus," he whispered softly, and then brought the man in and bridged the gap between them, pressing their lips gently together. "Remus," he whispered, his warm, sweet breath grazing Remus' lips, chin. Severus kissed him again. "Remus." Then he held Remus' hand to his chest and seemed to drift off again, a small smile on his face. Remus' nerves were on edge, his heart racing wildly. What in the name of God had just happened? A small smile slowly crept through his lips, and he began to be overtaken by a tide of emotions that were entirely new.

……………….

Remus left Snape in his chair and slept in the man's bed for the night. He absorbed the sullen Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's smells, woven in thin fibers within the soft cotton sheets, letting them possess him. He slept soundly, waking immediately when a dark shape passed by the bed. Remus knew instinctively that it was Severus. The man wasn't looking at him, Remus noted hazily, he was turned away in embarrassment, trying to gather fresh robes from his wardrobe. Remus had thought he might be a bit timid after their little encounter last night, but wouldn't let the fact deter him.

"Severus," he said. Severus didn't turn, but stopped what he was doing completely, looking a little absurd, as if he were examining a pair of black socks very carefully.

"Lupin," he muttered, his fists clutching the socks rather more tightly than a second before, looking severely disheveled. Remus was a little put off; a difficult man, indeed. "I must be off. It's Sunday, and I have promised brunch to Minerva." They both knew it was a lie, a feeble lie. Severus wanted to leave, he wanted desperately to go. His voice was saturated with shame, and something that may have been regret. As he mulled this over, something snapped in Remus' mind. No, absolutely not. He wouldn't allow it. The man would stay here.

Before either knew what had happened, Remus had Severus up against a wall, pinned there by his pelvis, mouths pressed furiously against the others'. Remus' hands were clutching Severus's jaw, his neck, his chin, his hair, moving, trying to grasp anything that would just _keep him there_. Severus was gripping the back of Remus' shirt, clawing at his arms. Their tongues were entangled within each other's, heat passing freely between their bodies. Remus moved his mouth to Severus's neck, nipping it and causing his breath to hitch, and Severus's leg lifted between Remus' own.

"Bed," Remus muttered into Severus's jaw line. Severus made a noise of agreement, nearly tearing Remus' shirt off, letting Remus fiddle with his belt as he was dragged by his waist to the warm bed awaiting them.

……………………..

"I'll be back tomorrow night."

"Damn right you will."

"I'll miss you."

"Shut up, werewolf." A stroke of the cheek, a kiss on the neck.

"I will. I've wanted this… us…" A hand touching a secret place, a small gasp.

"Fine. That's fine."

"I've got to go now."

"Then go."

"Goodbye, then."

"Remus?"

"Yes?"

"Don't bring any drink next time." Secret smiles, quickened heartbeats, hands grazing as one man leaves. Sighs from both parties when he is gone.


	4. Chapter 4

The remainder of March, April, and the majority of May were pure bliss. They spent their time in those little quarters in the dungeons talking, laughing, fighting, and having an obscene amount of sex. They weren't in love, but they were happier with each other than either had been in a very, very long time. It was like a private world, somewhere that no one could touch. Not Dumbledore, the Order, Harry, or bloody Tonks. And they lived for those late nights, those sleepy Sunday mornings. Remus' spying was often rudely interrupted by a flash of Severus's face, how it had contorted in what seemed like pain (Remus knew better), and a small tingling sensation where he had been kissed (oh, yes, _there_). Severus would grade papers whilst his students copied notes, and would absently stroke the spot where Remus had playfully bitten him the night previously (his _leg_? What, was he _hungry?_), and nearly let a fistfight break out between Malfoy and Weasley when an image of Remus' sleeping, delicate face floated through the forefront of his mind. They had become each other's substitute for the alcohol they had tried to drown in, had become the escape they both so wanted.

……………………..

As June approached, however, life outside those walls began to creep in. Severus had been looking rather drawn, nearly slapping Remus out of sheer irritation when the man would treat him, as Severus said, "the way an overprotective mother would treat her four-year old." To which Remus replied in affronted tones, "I want to make sure you're all right." Severus stared at him angrily. "Why?" This led to an explosive fight, and several things were thrown. Then Severus grabbed Remus and they fucked angrily, but held each other quietly afterwards, nuzzling their shoulders and necks and cheeks, knowing it was an apology of sorts. A poor one, but an apology nonetheless.

…………………….

Remus, too, was irritable. He had been happy for the last month or so, and Tonks took it as a sign Remus was obviously in love with her. Remus fucked her three more times, and the third time he told Severus. Severus yelled, a reaction Remus didn't quite expect (_why_ he didn't was anyone's guess). He was so angry that Remus thought he would begin to cry, and was rather frightened at seeing Severus nearly lose his composure; when Severus told him to leave, Remus did. He returned, three hours later, to see Severus sitting on his bed in his nightclothes, looking at his hands. Silently, Remus walked over to the silent, still man. Severus kept staring at his hands. Remus kissed him gently, and when he pulled away saw that Severus's eyes were rimmed ever-so-slightly with red, which struck him as incredibly sad and made him feel terrible. Remus kissed him and lowered him down on the bed. They made slow love, with Remus whispering "I'm sorry" and "Never again" the entire time. Severus didn't say anything.

Remus didn't have sex with Tonks again until their wedding night.

……………………….

Their anxiety levels were extremely high by the end of June. Severus knew what was coming, and Remus suspected that something may be happening soon, something explosive. The air of the world felt antsy, anxious, like something was about to snap. One night in mid-June Remus found Severus guzzling a bottle of vodka all alone.

"Severus? What are you doing?" Remus asked, sitting beside him (on the newly-transfigured couch), looking inquiringly at the pale, plain man.

"Drinking," he rasped, licking his lips.

"But," said Remus quietly. "You… we haven't had a drink since…"

"Since March, yes," he growled, placing the vodka bottle unceremoniously on the floor. "And why not? No doubt you've felt it. Dumbledore and Potter meeting at all hours of the night, finals are on their way, everything is more tense."

"Yes, I have noticed," said Remus, taking his boots off.

"And you've also noticed that all of these great happenings seem to occur at the end of the school year? And that it is quite close?"

"Naturally. It's funny how those things work…" Remus chuckled, scratching his chin.

"It is," said Severus solemnly.

"So something is _definitely_ happening, then? A big… battle? An attack, something?"

"I don't know," said Severus, rubbing his forearm distractedly. "Don't look at me like that, Remus, I really don't know."

"So that's why you're drinking?" asked Remus, a slight smile on his lips. "Or is it because of the final exams?" Severus looked at him and took his hand, a sad twinge on his lips.

"No, it's…" he sighed and looked away, clutching Remus' hand even harder. "You can't come back here."

Remus stared, a stunned silence buzzing through the air between them. "What?"

"You can't come back. After tonight."

"What, you're… throwing me away? Severus, don't be stupid…"

"No, Remus," said Severus sharply. "You're not to come back to me. It's too… too…" He looked pained. Remus shifted to face him.

"Dangerous?" Severus glared at him.

"No more talking," he hissed, leaning into Remus. Remus' heart plummeted, and he felt tears pricking at his eyes as Severus's lips caught his, as they became entangled on the couch, as clothes were shed, as places were touched, kissed, claimed... as they lay drenched in sweat and other things, as Remus put on his clothes quickly, as he left without saying goodbye. And Remus finally did cry when he returned to the little hovel he had been calling home, knowing nothing and suspecting everything.


	5. Chapter 5

It all happened so fast. That bastard. That absolute bastard. As soon as Harry had said those terrible words [_whokilledDumebledoreSnapekilledwhoSeverusDumbledoreAlbusdead_, Remus lost himself. Severus betrayed them, he betrayed _Remus_. Was that why Remus had been sent away? Was that the 'dangerous' reason that Remus could no longer be with Severus? Everything was a bit of a blur in that room, the blur punctuated by Nymphadora's declaration of love. Remus gave her the usual, (old, poor, dangerous[oh and has sex with _men_), but Nymphadora claimed she didn't care. If she didn't, then Remus certainly didn't either. He held her hand at the funeral and even snogged her that night. The following weeks [hell, _months_ were a flurry of confusion and guilt. Dumbledore dead, Severus officially working for You-Know-Who, Remus' small wedding with Nymphadora, Snape being made Headmaster, George's ear and Moody's death. He kept thinking _just let this be over. I'll wake up one morning in his bed, I'll wake up and none of this will have happened. _

……………..

_Thing should have been different_. Remus had thought this bitterly at nearly every desperate moment in his life. When he was cursed with his lycanthropy as a child, when Lily and James were killed and Harry was orphaned, when Sirius (_SiriusSiriusohGodwhydidhedoit_) was sent to Azkaban, when Remus was ousted as a werewolf to the whole school, when Sirius fucking _died_. And now this, his lover (_loverloveryeshisloverhowhewantedhim,hesowantedhimbackwhySeverusdidyoudoit_) was an evil murderous bastard terrorizing a school full of children. Remus wandered in a bit of a sleepy, apathetic daze for months until that day. That day when everything snapped back into harsh focus, when Remus began to bloody _care_ again. When his world changed.

"Remus, I'm pregnant."

He didn't know what in God's name to do. He kissed her like a good husband would, feigned excitement. In truth, he didn't know what to make of it. How the hell had he come to live this life? Why was he married, why was he having a child (_whatifIkillitwhatifithasmydiseaseIcan'tdothattomychild_)? How had things that had come to pass even happened? The first thing he did was try to escape. He went to Harry, tried to join the fight, wanted to get away from the swell of his wife's (_WIFEWIFEWIFE'S_) belly. He thought Harry, reckless, loyal Harry, would agree. In the end, Remus had nearly attacked him. He pondered going to Hogwarts, to visit Severus, to give himself up. Better to be tangled in the linen of the Dark than face the consequences of his actions over with the Light, he thought with disgusting indifference. He couldn't, though. He couldn't let himself. So he went back to Nymphadora, sweet, pregnant, worried Dora. He apologized and nearly cried and then got completely drunk. Dora stroked his graying hair and kissed his temple gently, for which Remus was grateful. A pang of guilt racked his body as he thought of Severus. Tonks saw it, but thought it was for leaving, and whispered comforting nonsense.

………………..

They saw each other once more before The End. Remus was in a pub, getting rather smashed. Dora was happy, eight months along, and deeply in love with Remus. He didn't love her, but he certainly did like her now, more than he ever had before. He knew that given a few years he would grow to love her. However, for now, all he really felt like being was numb. Poor Ted had been murdered, leaving his wife and daughter terribly distraught. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were missing, and things with the Ministry were getting dangerous for everyone except bloody Death Eaters. As he downed the last of his whiskey, he heard a familiar voice a bit along the bar order vodka. It was slurring rather heavily, and was darker than he had ever heard it.

"Snape," he hissed, glinting at the man. Severus glanced over, but quickly looked back to his drink. Remus fingered his wand. "Aren't you supposed to be back at the school, torturing children?"

"That would be the Carrows' job. Mine is to ensure they don't get carried away," he said lightly, turning his class in circles.

"You make me absolutely sick," Remus spat, bringing himself closer to the other man who, he noticed, did not have his hand anywhere near his wand. There was a strained silence.

"Congratulations," Severus muttered, receiving another drink.

"For what?"

"I heard you and Nymphadora were married. And that she is with child. Well done," he muttered dully. "Are you happy?"

Remus seethed, and whispered in tones only he and Severus could hear. "I was happy with _you_, Snape. I was fucking ecstatic. Am I happy now? I don't know. I'm excited for my child, yes. But happy? I could have been. We could have been. So then, why did you do it, Severus? Why did you murder him?"

Severus took Remus by the collar and pulled him forward, Remus immediately struggling for escape. But Snape was exceptionally strong as a drunkard, weedy as he may seem. "All in good time, my friend. I wish you luck with your child, and I wish you all the happiness you fucking _deserve_. And believe me, Remus, you deserve plenty." He pulled Remus close, gently, and pressed their lips together, just like the first time. Everything stood still and Remus was nearly overcome with the rightness of it all, the longing he felt to have it all back. He forgot Severus's sins, if only for that moment, and simply wanted to remain like this, forever. Then it was over [_fuckfuckfucknoSeverusdon'tgodon'tleaveme_, and the man shoved him away, took one last swig of his drink and left before Remus could say or do anything. He was left confused, drunk, and feeling broken.

………………………..

It was The End.

Remus still had one last thing to do, to help Harry with dear Lily, brave James, and Sirius, his lovely, funny Sirius. He faded again as Harry, a boy no longer, faced the Dark Lord. Remus would not be back. When he arrived, he and Dora met each other again and embraced.

"You never loved me, and I'm sorry," she whispered, smiling sadly and patting his cheek.

"Dora, I love you. Not in the way you wanted me to, but I do. Look," he said, pointing downwards. A hole of darkness appeared in the strange sterile floor upon which they stood. The couple crouched and looked into the navy depths below them. There lay a crib, and in it slept their poor, unknowing child. Teddy Lupin was blissfully unaware that he had just become an orphan, and would never know his parents. Dora cried, and Remus held her, assuring her that Harry would take care of him.

"Of course he will," sniffed Dora. "I just wish we could have known him."

Remus wished this, too. After staying with each other for a bit, they drifted off, away from each other. Dora was off to find someone, probably her father or Moody. The first person Remus found was Sirius, who looked strange.

"Oh, all of this black stuff? It's from that bloody veil. It's been fading since I've been here, made amends and whatnot. But it can really be a pain in the arse whilst trying to seduce the women," he said playfully, winking. Remus laughed.

Then he found James, who congratulated him excitedly about nearly everything Remus had done since James had died, much to Remus' bemusement, though he couldn't help a sheepish grin.

"I've been watching you!" he exclaimed. "A better man than I'll ever be, Remus!" They reminisced for a while, laughing and talking about things past.

James had stalked off jovially, looking to meet Dora for himself. Remus decided to look for Lily, and found her a little ways off. She was crying, talking to a tall, dark figure whom also seemed to be crying. She embraced the man, gripping the back of his shirt. He simply stood still, his face contorted. Could it be…?

………………

Remus watched them, perhaps for hours. They cried, and then laughed, and then cried more. She touched him, even kissed his cheeks. They sat and talked, and Lily cried as he stroked her hair. Remus noticed that they seemed to be getting younger, and now looked no older than they did in their fifth year at Hogwarts. He now looked like he was angry, and might've been yelling, and Lily cried, but he looked guilty and hugged her again. This strange cycle went on for a good while, and finally Lily got up on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek. She walked away, strangely transitioning into an adult again, as the man had done while walking distractedly in the other direction. Remus decided seeing him was more important than talking to Lily right now, and the man looked incredibly lonely, standing by himself with the brightness of wherever they were making him seem monochromatic.

Remus slowly approached, feeling incredibly apprehensive.

"So Albus…?"

"Was dying. He asked me to end it for him, so I did."

Remus was quiet for a moment. "God, no wonder you drank so much."

Severus let out a wet chuckle, his cheeks a bit flushed. "This past year was about ten times worse. I was hung over about half the time. Thank God I didn't have to teach any classes."

Remus smiled, and let a small, sad silence pass over them.

"It was all for her?"

"Yes," whispered Severus, sniffling.

Remus let a coy grin spread across his face. "You romantic sop."

Severus allowed himself a small appreciative laugh. Then Remus noticed it.

"Bloody _fuck_, Severus, what's that _from_?" He pointed to the man's neck, where there was a huge, horrifying gash. Severus merely pressed his fingertips to it, Remus noting that none of the blood on the gash had been transferred to his hand.

"The snake," he said, in a small voice. Severus seemed somewhat uneasy.

"Oh," said Remus. He touched it, and Severus shrunk away. "Is that how you…?"

"I believe so," said Severus. "And you were killed by the Curse. Who was it?"

"Dolohov. How did you know?"

"There's a green glint in your eyes when I look at you through the corner of my own. Same with Lily," he explained. The two men were quiet for a while, standing next to each other. They began to walk and found a sort of bench to sit on.

"So did you hear about Bellatrix?" asked Remus. Severus shook his head. Remus grinned wickedly, stifling laughter. "Molly Weasley finished her off."

Severus started laughing. "_Molly Weasley_? Bella must be humiliated!" They both laughed jovially, relief seeping through Remus. However, Severus still looked a bit uncomfortable.

"Where is she?" he asked a little timidly. "Bellatrix?"

Remus' expression turned cold. "Not here. Why would she be? She killed Dora."

Severus picked at his sleeve, still in the same clothes he had been wearing when he died. "Then… why am I here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I… I killed Albus. I led the Dark Lord right to Lily, to her… her family. I've stood by and watched people be murdered, tortured. I don't belong here, Remus."

Remus couldn't help it; he wrapped his arms around the man. Severus seemed to lean into him a little, and Remus sighed into his shoulder. "Severus, you belong here more than most."

"Why?" he asked shakily.

"Because you've sacrificed so much for love. You're terribly brave and romantic, and your life wasn't fair," he muttered. "Your death wasn't in vain, either, if you were wondering. I saw."

Severus chuckled weakly. "Thank you." His hands, which had previously just been hanging at his sides, lifted a little to grip Remus by the waist. His fingers were shaking. "Remus, you poor man. Your son…"

"I know," whispered Remus. "I regret that I won't be there. But Harry will make sure Teddy's all right."

"Yes, he will," Severus breathed, his lips grazing Remus' cheek. "That pompous little berk."

Now it was Remus' turn to chuckle.


End file.
